Unknown - Sally and Duke

Somehow she felt that… well, that she might have more influence with him than Ray would. Ray was apt to get hotheaded, as he admitted he had this afternoon. If only he hadn't really alienated John Blodgett, perhaps she could persuade him to change his mind about selling out, or at the very least enlist his aid in getting them a loan. He would not be so bluntly business-like with a woman, she felt, and she did not mind begging for Ray's sake. Yes, she must manage to see John Blodgett alone, and without Ray's knowledge of the meeting. God, Ray would kill her if he even guessed what she was thinking!

Arranging to see her husband's boss was not so easy, however, Sally Denham found. He did maintain an office over the bank, but it was a sort of dummy office. There was no secretary and you could never tell when Blodgett himself would be there. Sally took to watching the square from her front windows for a glimpse of the tobacco-colored station wagon that he drove.

Meanwhile she tried to persuade Ray that it would not do to present their case too hastily at the bank, they must be organized with all the figures on the store's volume of business, show that Ray was a capable administrator. Her poor darling had been going around like a zombie ever since that day he found out about the sale of the store. She just couldn't understand why it meant so much to him… after all, he was a young man, only twenty-six… how could anyone be a failure at twentysix? She supposed it had something to do with being poor as a child… wanting something other than farming… no doubt the business people with whom Ray's family had to deal, and beg credit from, had seemed to a child like the very pillars of the economy or something. Her own father, a moderately successful salesman, had never worried about working for others, but Ray had this craving, this obsession, to be his own boss.

On Friday afternoon before the Labor Day weekend she at last saw the brown station wagon parked opposite the bank and knew that here was her opportunity. At first she thought of telephoning to ask for an appointment, but she nervously dropped the phone back on the cradle after dialing three numbers. She hurried into the bedroom, unzipping her dress as she walked, and let it fall to the floor. She selected a sheer pale yellow dress that seemed ladylike and fresh, though a trifle short. Then she released her long ash-brown hair from its pony tail and hastily brushed it down over her shoulders. She realized that this made her look younger… perhaps, she thought, surveying herself in the mirror, she had gotten a trifle heavier since marriage, although it certainly had not harmed her looks. It only made the dress cling faithfully to every curving high-point of her figure. On the hanger it had seemed so demure and simple, but now when it was stretched over her high thrusting breasts and caressing her soft fluid hipline, the dress was almost blatantly sexy. It would do nicely, she thought, for the purpose of charming John Blodgett onto their side. She hastily buckled on white sandals, dabbed a touch of lipstick on her small, prettily curved mouth and picked up her purse.

She hurried down the stairs and out of their private entrance which fortunately did not open into the drugstore. God, it was hot… she would be perspiring before she had crossed the square! One of the things Sally disliked about Quiggville was that everyone knew your business, since everyone's business was transacted on the square-bank, doctor's office, finance company or whatever. Hopefully she would not be observed entering the side door that led to the rooms over the bank, although of course she had a perfect right to go there if she wished.

She reached the entrance without meeting anyone she knew and let herself into the gloomy hallway. The sagging old oiled wood stairs creaked beneath her light tread.

John Blodgett's office door stood open. Evidently he had been looking for something, as his desk was strewn with papers. As Sally reached his doorway he looked up, face blank for only a second. Then he smiled in welcome.

"Why, hi there, Miz Denham! You doin' all right?"

"Fine, thank you," she acknowledged, all her courage abruptly deserting her.

"Well, just come right in. You, uh, lookin' for me?"

"Yes, if you're not busy, I would like to talk with you for a few minutes." As she moved toward the chair he indicated, Sally nearly tripped over a big black and tan German Shepherd that had been completely concealed by the desk. "Oh!" she exclaimed nervously, and the animal raised its head and regarded her alertly although not otherwise moving from its reclining position.

"That's just Duke," Blodgett chuckled, "You 'fraid of dogs, Miz Denham?"

"N-no, I love dogs," she laughed self-consciously, "He startled me, that's all." She reached down to stroke the dog's glossy head. She had seen the magnificent animal before, usually looking out the rear window of the station wagon. Sally crossed her shapely bare legs and folded her hands demurely in her lap, looking directly into the ruddy, handsome face of her husband's boss.

"Mr. Blodgett, Ray-Ray and I are very disappointed about your decision to sell the drugstore. That's what I want to talk to you about. Ray doesn't know that I'm here… it was entirely my own idea to come… s-so I hope you won't say anything to him about it."

"Well, now, is that a good idea, for a nice little wife to keep secrets from her husband?" he drawled, but from his understanding smile Sally knew he was only teasing her. In fact, his easy-going informality was putting her more and more at ease, so she plunged on.

"No, of course it isn't, but I guess wives have always, interfered a little bit… when they thought it was necessary. You see, I understand my husband so much better than anyone else does. He's very proud-too proud to come right out and tell you how much he wants to own that drugstore, or at least be a partner. I'm sure you know that's why we decided to come here in the first place," she made this last remark rather pointed and then looked up anxiously to see whether it had offended him. Apparently not, for he was still smiling in a kindly way. He seemed to be staring at her legs and she shifted her position a bit in the chair and tugged her skirt down before continuing, "Ray is going to ask the bank for a loan, to buy you out. I-I'm sure that your … your help, your recommendation would be very, uh, persuasive to the people at the bank. I believe you're related to the bank president?"

"Brother-in-law," John Blodgett said, nodding, "Lee Quigg is my wife's twin."

"Oh, really-twins? I didn't know that."

"'Course that doesn't mean I can tell him how to run his bank," the big man pointed out, "but like you say, my opinion does carry a little weight."

"I'm sure it carries a great deal of weight," Sally said warmly,

"That's why I came to you. And also, of course, because I feel that I know you… a little, at least. I couldn't have gone to Mr. Quigg, for instance, with such a request. Will you help us, Mr. Blodgett?" Her grey eyes rested pleadingly on his face and she sat forward slightly in her chair, the movement deepening the dark shadowed cleft between her large breasts. Blodgett's gaze flicked downward and rested on those twin mounds that were quivering noticeably from her nervousness. God damn, he thought, but the girl had a pair of beauties! He could hardly believe that Ray Denham's snotty New England wife was actually sitting here in his office at this moment asking him for a favor. He had always dismissed her as unattainable, no matter how attractive. Now, a bold plan was rapidly taking shape in his devious, cunning mind.

"Look, Miz Denham-may I call you Sally?" She nodded breathlessly. "I want to help you, Sally. I sure-to-God do!" his husky southern voice oozed sincerity, "and maybe there just might be something I can do. But don't go gettin' your hopes up too high. We all of us business people in this town would like to see Ray running the store. After all, he's a Tennessean… practically a local boy. But these aren't the best of times, I guess you know that, and there's certain rules any bank has to be guided by in making loans. If you start bending those rules too much out of shape then the bank's in trouble."